“Let’s go into my office,” Diana said, standing up and leading the way. When they got in her office she stepped behind her desk and sat down. Lou looked around.
“Nice kite. Who’s your decorator?”
“Me. I call it minimal fantasy.”
“Who lives in the glass box?”
“My turtle. Why are you here, Lou?”
“What’s the turtle’s name?”
“Why are you here?”
“I need to ask you something, Diana, and you have to tell me the truth, okay?”
“Okay. I’ve been known to tell the truth on occasion.” She managed a brief smile.
“Please, this is serious. Were you the anonymous caller after the Kaylee story came out?”
Her smile faded and she nodded. The turtle roused and poked his head out of his shell. Diana put her finger to her lips and motioned Lou to close the door. He followed her gaze to Jen, shut the door, and sat down opposite her.
“I need to know why you said what you said to me on the phone,” he whispered. “Do you have any proof that Kaylee’s death was caused by something from the plant, something that leached into the water? Some type of radiation?”
“I have experts who are speculating. I can give you their names.” She opened a small closet and pulled a thick folder from a large box from the floor.
“Let’s walk outside, okay?” she gestured to the door, tucking the folder under her arm.
When they were at his car, she gave him the folder.
“There’s a list of experts in here, and some of them believe there’s a good chance Kaylee ingested some type of isotope that eventually killed her. Are you working on this for a story?”
“Maybe. It depends what I come up with. I’m a fish out of water with this one. May need your help.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I’m at your disposal. It’s a story that hasn’t been told. Ever.”
He ran his finger lightly along her arm. “Nice e-mail, Pretty Lady. Busy this weekend?”
“I thought I was off-limits.”
“You are, but you’re hard to resist. You’re worth breaking a few silly rules.”
His touch made her flush, and she glanced toward the school, checking for spies. She reached for his hand and pulled him to her. It was a long, deep kiss that surprised them both. He wrapped his strong, swarthy arms around her and slowly moved his hands down her back, resting on her hips. She melted; he had tapped her juices.
She broke away and looked back at the school.
“Why don’t you come over for dinner Friday night? And if you want, bring your toothbrush.”
“I want.”
When she walked back to the school, Diana was glowing. She motioned for Jen to come in her office.
“Wow,” Jen said. “What happened out there? You’re all dreamy.”
“Yes, I know. He kissed me. Or rather I kissed him.”
“Is that what he came for? A kiss?”
The two women chuckled and sat down on two chairs in front of Diana’s desk. Then Diana got serious.
“He’s looking into how Kaylee died.”
Jen shook her head.
“Why? Can’t he leave well enough alone?”
“He can’t, Jen, nor should he. I know this must be painful, but wouldn’t you and Ricky want to know also?”
“Why are you doing this, Diana? I thought we were friends. Now this. You’re using Kaylee’s death to close the plant.”
Diana became startled at the accusation.
“Please, Jen. If there is something in the water where kids are swimming, as a mom, wouldn’t you want to know what it is?”
The tears came, and Jen looked away. Diana took her hands and held them in her own.
“Look, we’ll deal with this together. You don’t have to talk to Lou if you don’t want to. Let’s just see what he comes up with.”
Jen, silent, set her jaw and pulled her hands from Diana.
“I can’t deal with this right now,” Jen whispered. “You understand, don’t you?”
“Sure. I do understand and will respect where you are on this. But, please Jen, don’t close the door on this. It’s way too important.”
Lou gritted his teeth and jumped right in. He would do this. Get to the bottom of things, even if his byline ended up confusing people. Yes, he was a sportswriter, but he was versatile and could write about other stuff.
He studied the information from Diana. Where to start?
The experts included a member of the Union of Concerned Scientists, a medical consultant with the Nuclear Information Resource System, and someone from the Environmental Protection Agency. They were all surprisingly easy to talk to.
“What’s strontium 90?” Lou asked the medical person with NIRS.
“It’s a radioactive particulate that can leach out of a nuclear power plant into the rivers near to where they are located.”
“Could the girl have ingested this and gotten really sick?”
“Sure. The younger and weaker you are, the more lethal strontium is.”
“Could it have killed her?”
“Yes. Especially if she was a sick kid to begin with.”
“Would strontium show up in a blood test? Or X-ray?”
“It’s absorbed into the bloodstream, and then attaches to the bone surfaces. We find it in baby teeth of children who live near nuclear power plants.”
“What else could’ve killed her?”
“Tritium. It is part hydrogen, so it is part of the water. Tritium leaks from aging nukes all the time. Repeated exposure causes cancer.”
“Are either of these routinely checked for in blood tests?”
“Hospital labs don’t usually check for radioactive isotopes, unless someone specifically asks for it.”
Lou would ask for it. The next call was to the hospital and the young Dr. Turner.
“Let’s see. Kaylee Elery. Oh yes, very sad. As much as we tried, the girl just slipped through our fingers, poor thing. We ran a bunch of blood tests. Would have to check the results.”
“Can you get back to me about the blood tests?”
Ten minutes later Turner called him back.
“Looks like there was some tritium in her blood. We knew there was something toxic, but we weren’t looking for anything like that. It also came up in the autopsy.”
“Did you report it?”
“Report it? To whom?”
“To the authorities? The county health department for starters?”
“Why?”
“A kid dying from a foreign substance, downstream from a nuclear power plant? That didn’t merit an official report?”
“Uh… I don’t think that’s what killed her. She was a pretty sick kid, you know.”
“Can I quote you about the blood test and the autopsy?”
“I’ll need permission from our press office to formally go on the record. They like to control what information goes out about the hospital.”
“Yeah. Sure. Call me when you get it.”
“Will do.”
Sure you will—when the Dodgers come back to Brooklyn.
“Oh, and Mr. Padera? I seem to recall sending a Hazmat guy over to the house. Not sure why we did that….”
“What Hazmat guy?”
“Local guy, checks for radon and gas leaks. Stuff like that.”
“What was he checking for? Did he send in a report?”
“I don’t remember.”
Lou called the local firehouse in Jen’s neighborhood and was steered to Jeff Collins. “Oh yes. How sad that all was,” said Collins. “You’re story was great, Mr. Padera.”
“Thanks. I’m trying to follow up. You checked their house for radon, didn’t you?”
“Yes. But that’s not what I found. Is this for a story?”
“It could be. Depends on what you found.”
“I don’t know, but something in the clothes set off the Geiger counter. It was wild. Seems they were soaked with river water.”